Harry Potter and the Job
by Concept101
Summary: One day, Harry Potter read, "Newt Scamander, master of the magical creatures, is looking to hire one young intern for a summer wide assignment of adventuring, exploration and learning!" Watch as Harry travels the world on this journey full of larceny, thievery and drunken debauchery, all the while pissing over as many people as he can. Sometimes literally.
1. Robbing Gringotts

**Chapter 1: Robbing Gringotts**

Harry Potter sat on a wooden bench in the King's Cross Station, lost in thoughts and memories of the past year, waiting for the Dursleys to come pick him up.

A hundred thoughts seemed to be passing through his head at once. The trial, the nightmares, the visions, Umbridge, the prophecy, Ministry . . . Sirius's death.

It had been a hard year.

With a sigh, Harry looked around the muggle platform around him, and saw an old man, looking about seventy of age, limping over to the bench where Harry was sitting, leaning heavily on his cane. Harry scooted to the side and put Hedwig's cage on the floor to make space for the tired man, who sat himself down to give some rest to his legs.

Harry looked at his wrinkled face for a second before his thoughts moved unbidden away from the present and to the past. His thoughts moved from dark to darker places as memories of the battle in the Ministry passed through his mind.

"So who'd you lose son?" the old man asked suddenly, startling Harry.

He chuckled at Harry's shocked expression, "You've got the look about you. Its very obvious to anyone who's been in the war. So? Who'd you lose?"

"It was my godfather" Harry finally said.

"Were you close?"

"Yeah . . . Yeah. We were close. He was my only remaining family."

"I'm sorry."

There was a small silence, in which Harry's mind drifted back to that one moment when he had finally realised that Sirius was gone, that he couldn't just pull back the veil and bring him back to life.

"You ever lose someone? In the war?" Harry suddenly asked.

"I have. Jerry, one of my best mates, died in 1940 in the front lines when we were in Egypt. Used to love horse riding. I still remember how the day after he died, me and my other mates snuck out of the camp. We drank to his memory and got a local to rent us his horses" the man chuckled, "We broke a lot of bones that day trying to ride those."

Harry felt a bit sick inside, "You _celebrated_ his death?"

"Oh no! However did you get _that_ idea? No. We were celebrating his life. Its a good thing to do for people who are mourning someone close. I don't mean to be insensitive, but I reckon you should do the same."

"So I should just not mourn him and make merry? Is that what you're saying?" Harry said, his voice cold.

"What I'm saying son, is that mourning is fine." the old man said calmly, "Its healthy for the soul. But in the end, you have to learn that you hold onto the love, not the loss . . . So tell me. What was your godfather's favourite thing to do in the world?"

It took Harry a second to realise it.

"Being free" he muttered, just as much to himself as to the man.

The old man paused for a second, perhaps trying to make sense of that, before he spoke, "Then celebrate that. Celebrate his life. Don't let the moment of his death define your memory of him. Let his _life_ define it. Think of what he would have wanted you to do, and then do it."

Harry looked at the people bustling through the station, thinking about what the old man was saying. The station clock gave out a chime.

"Oh sweet Jesus! Look at the time!"the old man suddenly exclaimed. With a groan, he put weight on his cane and lifted himself onto his feet.

"Well, I'm off lad. You take care now." he said, before he hobbled off into the crowd.

The old man's advice had driven something into Harry.

Right now, sitting at this station, he had a choice to make. He could spend all his time this summer in a proverbial hell, be a nice boy and do what he was told.

Or he could forget about the war and have some fun.

Now that Voldemort's return was public, he wouldn't be holding back on his attacks anymore. It would soon be all out war.

And with the prophecy hanging over his head, this summer might just be the last time Harry would ever have a chance to have some fun. Heck why was he even kidding himself? There was a very strong chance that he wouldn't even live to see another summer.

It wasn't exactly hard to see what Sirius would do.

Screw the Dursleys. If this was going to be the last summer of his life, then by goodness he was going to _live._

Checking to see that his trunk, which Lupin had enchanted with a permanent voice activated shrink-unshrink charm for him, was still in his pocket, he picked up Hedwig's cage and walked out of the station.

He headed towards a small hidden alleyway next to the station, where he pulled out his trunk and unshrinked it, before pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill.

For a moment Harry considered going into a long and hard rant, detailing out all the problems he had over the years at Hogwarts. All the monsters he had to fight and the detentions he had to serve. And the toilets! Oh the Merlin forsaken toilets! Yes, he thought, those deserved a whole paragraph unto itself!

But in the end, he discarded the idea, since he couldn't be arsed to write out an autobiography on a piece of parchment with a ruddy half broken quill and an inkpot while he was hunched over on the floor of a dirty alleyway.

Instead, he wrote down a small but effective message,.

 _Dear Professor,_

 _Toodles_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry_

Folding it up, he let Hedwig out of her cage and tied the letter to her leg.

"Take this to Hogwarts girl, and then go stay with Hermione until I come and get you." he said, stroking her feathers.

Hooting sadly, Hedwig gave his ear a last affectionate nip before taking off to deliver her master's message.

Harry watched until his beloved pet had faded from sight. It would take Hedwig a few hours to get to Scotland and deliver the letter. He had until then to decide what he wanted to do and where he wanted to go.

He quickly shrunk his trunk back up and put it into his pocket, before making his way back towards the portal to Platform Nine & Three Quarters.

Walking through the divide that separated the muggle platform from the magical one, Harry looked back and forth across the platform, and located the floo station.

He flattened his fringe over his scar before going over to the man handing out the floo powder, and paying him a couple of knuts for a handful of powder.

" _Diagon Alley_ " he clearly enunciated.

A second and half of mind tumbling brain gomboozling famboozlespins later, Harry stepped out of the fireplace in Leaky Cauldron.

Keeping his head low, he quickly slipped to the back of the pub and tapped out the sequence for the brick wall to open up before he stepped into the alley and headed to Gringotts.

Entering Gringotts, he immediately went to the nearest open teller.

"Yes" the goblin looked down at him and asked when he finally noticed him.

"I need a way to store galleons" Harry answered quickly.

"One moment" The goblin rummaged through a small chest on his desk for several minutes before pulling out a small pouch, "This pouch is expanded on the inside. It can hold thousands of galleons along with anything else of value you choose to put inside it. And its protected to only let its owner open itself. Fifty galleons cost. Will that be all?"

"No," Harry said, "I'll be making some withdrawals from my vault please."

"Of course." the teller said. He called a scruffy looking goblin passing by and click-clacked away in Gobbledegook for a second, before he turned to Harry.

"Follow him. He'll take you to your vault."

The goblin led him to one of the doors leading off the hall. Soon, they were sitting in a cart, speeding down the rail roads that led deep into the cavern.

Harry stared at the wrinkly faced goblin, who genuinely had the most horrifying facial structure that Harry had ever seen. It was nightmarish. It looked like a hippogriff had taken a dump on a pair of shoulders and stuck ears onto it.

Feeling a little bad, Harry tried to start a conversation.

"What's your name?"

The goblin sneered, disfiguring his face even more "None of your business you filthy wand toting sack of dung _wizard_."

Well. Feeling a much less bad for comparing the goblin to a hippogriff dung, Harry stepped out of the cart in front of Vault 687.

"Key" the goblin snapped at him, reaching out to take his vault key.

As the goblin opened his vault, Harry curiously looked at the door of the vault next to his own. It was an pure black metal door, with no keyhole like his own vault.

"High-security family vault" the goblin said with a toothy smirk, noticing where he was looking. "Families with actual money have the extra protections added in. Only a goblin can open one of those. Anyone else who tries get sucked into the vault and is left to rot." the goblin snarked before rasping out a few chuckles.

Harry knew that. The vault had a striking similarity to the one he had visited back in first year with Hagrid to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone.

The familiar stylized M on the carved stone crest above the door stared at him, tempting. A plan was forming in his head, unbidden, one he was pretty sure would work . . .

The Malfoys were death eaters, and were almost definitely bankrolling the Death Eater operations. Harry had decided that didn't want anything to do with the war for this summer, but that was no reason to not dick the Death Eaters over any chance he got.

Harry asked himself the question that had made him start off on this strange aimless journey.

What would Sirius do?

It wasn't exactly hard to guess.

Looking left and right along the long tunnel to check that nobody was around to see what he was about to do, Harry promptly picked up the Goblin by the scruff of its neck and slammed him head first right into the stone wall with all his strength.

"Whaaa . . ." the goblin slurred, knocked out of his senses. Frowning at the fact that the goblin was still conscious, Harry bonked him into the wall one more time.

And once more, just to be sure.

Making sure that the hideous little monster was finally unconscious, Harry dragged his unconscious body over to the Malfoy vault, and stroked the door using one of the goblin's long fingers.

The door simply melted away, revealing piles and piles of golden Galleons, dwarfing the his own vault in both size and content.

It took Harry almost half an hour to dump all the galleons into his new brand spanking new pouch, leaving only a few sickles and knuts. He stepped out and the door solidified back into existence.

Now it was time to make sure the goblin didn't suspect anything.

Harry dragged the goblin over to near his own vault before shaking the goblin's shoulder, waking him up. The next part of the plan had to be done perfectly, or he would probably never make it out of the bank alive.

"Urgh . . ." the goblin muttered before he regained his bearings and narrowed his eyes at Harry suspiciously. "What happened here? Why am I on the floor?"

"That's what I should be asking you!" Harry exclaimed, trying to channel his best acting abilities. "I go into the vault for ten minutes and you decide to take a nap! Rest assured I'll be reporting you to your supervisor and moving my gold and business elsewhere! Honestly! Sleeping on the job! The nerve!"

The goblin's suspicion vanished as panic took its place. If any supervisor heard that he'd driven such a famous client from the bank then he'd be fed to the dragons!

"No! Don't! It'd destroy me. Please." The goblin begged, singing a totally different tune now than he was before.

Harry took his sweet time before answering, riling up the goblin to the point that he was purple in his face, before he relented, "Fine . . . But I take this money pouch free of cost. And get me out of this hell-hole fast."

The goblin agreed immediately, and ushered Harry to the cart and sped them back to the surface, where Harry converted some galleons to pounds and made his way out of the bank.

With his scar well covered by his cap, Harry now made his way into Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, which was the place to go for pretty much any magical items you wanted.

Except wands. The shop was strictly non-sexual in nature.

Harry heard a faint ringing sound as he opened the door and he looked around for the shop keeper.

"What can I do for you?" an old man asked as he approached.

"Ah . . . Do you have one of those wizarding tents? The kind with loads of rooms." Harry said, "I was looking for one that's good for at least a couple of months worth of travel."

"Well I think I have just the thing for you" the old man replied enthusiastically, "the Super Awesome Patent-pending tent, also known as the SAP tent. It has three rooms, dragonhide lined fabric, and is charmed to set itself up as soon as you throw it into the ground. It has successfully passed all Ministry and ICW standards."

"That's impressive." Harry's interest was piqued, "What else does it have?"

"A lot more! All of the regular stuff obviously, to keep you going if you have to kip in the middle of nowhere. A rucksack for everything you want to keep handy without opening up the tent. It also has its own stove, a stocked icebox, fold 'em up beds and so on. It's the best thing for travel in the shop."

"Wow," Harry said, quite a bit impressed, "Anything else you think I should carry around that you'd recommend to someone who was planning to travel around for a while? Money isn't an issue."

The shopkeeper looked Harry up and down before he zeroed in on his glasses. "A few more things sir" he suggested, "A pair of in-eye lenses made by Septiceye Sam to keep your glasses from inconveniencing you . . . And if you buy the tent then I'll throw in a copy of _The Magical Atlas for the Magical Wanderer_ as well." the old man looked at Harry's ragged clothes, "You'll be wanting some new magical clothing as well. Self-mending and weather proof and the likes."

"That seems reasonable" Harry said, "Just give me the best of whatever you recommend."

"No problems sir," The shopkeeper started putting several items on the table, "the Septiceye Sam glasses will adjust to any prescription, are weatherproof and even have a zoom feature. This Allspeak Potion is for learning languages. You have to just hear or read the language once to gain a full understanding of it. Each dose can help you learn up to a dozen languages, and you'll understand them even after the potion wears off. I'd suggest five vials, since each dose has effects lasting a month. A bit expensive, but I'd say definitely worth it. That should be it."

"There is one more thing that I would like to get," Harry said nervously, "I was wondering if you had something that would allow me to . . . blend in better?"

"Why would you want that?" the shopkeeper said suspiciously "Are you up to something shady? I want nothing to do with that sort of thing."

Harry looked around to check that no one was watching, before he nervously lifted his bangs to show his scar.

"Ah, I see . . . " the shopkeeper said in comprehension, "Never fear Mr. Potter. I've had something like that for a few years now. I wouldn't ever part with it normally, but I reckon it'd do good in your hands. Consider it an apology for believing all the nasty stuff the Prophet printed about you all throughout the last year."

He pulled out a golden ring with a small ruby on top of it from his pocket and looked at it reverently.

"This . . . this is a Confundus ring. _The_ Confundus ring. Used to belong to Nicholas Flamel." Harry's eyebrows shot into his hairline. The shopkeeper continued, "I had to go through a lot of hoops to get it. It creates a small undetectable Confundus field around you, and people won't be able to tell your face apart from somebody next to you as long as you have this on. Its believed that this is how Flamel was able to move around in public without getting stampeded. It probably does a lot more stuff that I don't know. I reckon you need it more than I do."

"Thank you so much," Harry gave a relieved smile, "You have no idea how much you helped me. Just one more thing. Is there any way I could convince you to keep my coming here a secret? I'd really rather not have people following me around when I'm travelling."

"No worries Mr. Potter. It'll be our little secret" the shopkeeper said with a grin.

Soon, Harry paid for his purchases and walked out of the store, a few Malfoy galleons poorer, and wandered down the alley, wondering where he should head to next, and what to do.

He had just ditched the Dursleys, and robbed a pureblood family out in Gringotts, without even planning what he was going to do and where he was going to go! he thought to himself.

The loud calls of a news paper hawker distracted him from his thoughts, "Today's headline on the Prophet! DEVILISH WITCHYS to move to FRANCE out of fear of You Know Who! Celestina Warbeck PREGNANT for the EIGHTEENTH TIME!"

Harry's head snapped towards the hawker.

Devilish Witchys! That was Dean's favourite porno magazine! Harry borrowed it all the time! They moved to France!?

"One Prophet please" Harry quickly demanded, handing the hawker a few knuts.

He quickly read through the article about the Witchys, before sighing with relief. Thankfully, they would still be continuing to supply in Britain.

As he was about to fold up the Prophet and stuff it into a bin, a small advert caught his attention. It was nothing special, all boring looking, and was stuffed in the bottom corner of the page where no one would really see it.

The first line of the advert read,

 _Newt Scamander,master of the magical creatures, is looking to hire one young intern for a summer wide assignment of adventuring,exploration and learning!_

* * *

 **This will be a fun light-hearted travel story, with elements of Rorschach's Blot's and nonjon's writing styles. Hard goals, I know, but I love their work and I really wanted to write something in their veins. Every chapter after the second chapter will take place outside England. Rest assured, this chapter contains most of the cliche elements you'll see in this story.**

 **REVIEW!**


	2. Getting a Job

**Chapter 2: Getting a Job**

Harry Potter looked up at the building in front of him. Bright painted letters along the top of the building said,

" _NS Veterinarium"_

And over the door hung a sign, saying _"Closed for Maintenance"_

This was the place where the advert had told him to come to apply for the job. Securing the Confundus Ring around his finger, and making sure that his wand was secure in his sleeve just in case, he knocked on the door.

A frazzled looking elderly bearded man in a white doctor's coat opened the door.

"What the heck do you want?" he said in a gruff voice.

"I'm here because of the advert in th-"

"You're here for the job!?" the man exclaimed, perking up.

"Yeah."

"The lads from construction are here in the main hall, so why don't you just go down the side alley and come in through the back door?

"How will I know which one is the back door?"

"There will be a door with a large neon sign that says 'back door' over it."

"So I go into that one?"

"No. That's the gay strip club. You need to go into the one after that. Just let yourself in. The first door to the right is my office. I'll be with you in just a minute."

Nodding, Harry walked into the side alley, and entered the door after the one that had 'Back Door' in neon letters above it. Entering the man's office, he sat down on one of the chairs. The entire office was strewn with papers. A potion kit was set up in one of the corners, and the walls had posters on them.

A minute later, the man entered the office and sat down on his chair.

"Newt Scamander." he said, offering his hand.

Harry's eyes widened as he shook his hand and said, "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Scamander. Can you tell me a little more about the job? Your advert was a bit . . . lacking in details."

"Ah yes. Easy stuff to explain. I'll supply you with funds for portkeys and lodging while you travel where I tell you to go and do what I tell you to do. You don't get any extra pay other than that. Simple."

Harry had another question, "No offense meant Mr. Scamander, but that was rather vague too. What exactly is it that you will tell me to do?"

"All in good time young man," Mr. Scamander said, picking up a quill and one of the parchments scattered across the table. "But first, if its fine with you, let's fill up your internship form eh? You didn't tell me your name did you?"

Harry floundered for a second, "Er . . . Dobby"

"Dobby what?"

"Dobby . . . " Harry scrambled for a surname, "Dobby Buckbeaks"

"Doesn't sound like a pureblood name. Muggleborn?"

"Half and half sir" Harry said, rather proud of himself for having saved that situation.

"Good. You seem like the athletic type too. It'll be useful for the job. Now, I'm asking for the final time here Dobby. Are you sure you want this job? It can be dangerous."

"I think I do sir. I just want to have a fun summer and travel the world."

"Very well then. Sign here Dobby" the older man said, handing him the internship form, which was an A4 size parchment with only one line on it.

 _Dobby Buckbeaks is an unpaid intern at NS Veterinarium_

 _Signature: __

"It isn't some sort of magical contract is it?" Harry asked nervously.

"Magical contract!?" Scamander exclaimed, "What do you think I run here? A gold mine? I treat animals and sell books for a living. Those things cost over ten thousand galleons each!"

Nodding, Harry signed Dobby Buckbeaks in the blank space. Scamander took the parchment and rolled it up before he stuffed it into one of his many drawers.

"Good. Welcome to NS Veterinarium and all that. Now let's talk about the details of your job."

"Of course Mr. Scamander." Harry said, eager to know what his new job would entail. He didn't have a problem with not getting a salary, since he had his Malfoy gold now to blow off. Something fun and unexpected was what he wanted to experience. And from what he'd seen until now, this job was perfect for it.

"Please, we're colleagues now. Call me Mandy."

Harry's left eye suddenly developed a twitch, " . . . Will do Mandy."

"Well then Dobby," Scamander said, "Let me tell you this first. Despite the fact that hundreds of magical creatures have been discovered by wizards, thousands more remain in anonymity, undiscovered by wizardkind. Your job, is that of an explorer. You have to go to places where I send you, follow leads and rumors, do some detective work, and find and record the existence and behaviour of magical creatures."

"And how will I do that?" Harry asked, quite intrigued, "Do I just send you letters by owl or something?"

"Of course not. You use these" Scamander said before he dipped his hand into another one of his desk drawers and pulled out a thick looking hand-held journal and a mirror.

Scamander handed them both to Harry.

"What are these?" Harry asked, looking it over.

"That journal is called the BeastLog. It contains information on all known magical animals, and lots and lots of empty pages. Its basically like a handheld encyclopedia. Its now your job to fill its pages with all the new creatures you discover. It has never ending pages, so don't worry about running out of space to write in."

Harry stared at the BeastLog, quite impressed. "And the mirror?"

"Standard two way mirror, which you can use to communicate with me. You can ask advice, ask stuff about what creatures you're facing and so on. Only use it in emergencies though. Cross country calls are cruelly expensive."

"So when I discover a new creature, I just write about it?"

"Indeed. Pictures are appreciated, but not really necessary."

"Got it then. I'll be sure to buy a camera just in case. So when do I start?"

"Whenever you want! You could start now if you wish."

"Then I think I'll do that."

"That's great then. Let me call a friend in the Ministry to whip up your first portkey. Usually takes a long time to get portkeys in the ministry, but the guy owes me a few favours, so he should get it done pretty quick." Scamander said as he went over to the fireplace and threw some floo powder in it.

He spoke in whispers into the fire for a few moments, before he turned to Harry and said, "He'll have your portkey ready in a few , your first mission, is to investigate the rumours of a large creature in the Lake Como in Italy. You'll be heading to Milan, from where you can head over by broom. You do have a broom right?"

"Oh yeah" Harry assured, patting his pocket, where his shrunken trunk containing his Firebolt was.

"Good. Its your first assignment, so be careful, and do your research before you jump into the lake and try to find it. Mingle with the locals, learn their tales and stories. Find out as much about the creature as you can,by looking through local literature and stuff before you try to find it. Understand?"

"Got it" Harry said, pocketing the BeastLog and the mirror.

"Then all we've left to do is wait for the portkey" Scamander said. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Scamander called out.

A young woman, brown haired, and looking like she was in her twenties, peeked in from the door with a black Kneazle in her hand.

"Sorry to disturb you Healer Scamander, but Mrs Queef really wanted her kneazle neutered and checked up today, and she won't leave until we do it. Jean Beauregard has handled the neutering but I'd really appreciate it if you checked him up quick. Oh and he had a few thunder-porcupine quills in her face when she came in."

"I'll handle it Joyce," Scamander said, moving to take the kneazle from her hands. Harry winced as he saw the kneazle dig its claws and teeth into his hands.

"Thanks a bunch" Joyce said before leaving and closing the door behind her.

"Well he seems a bit pissed off doesn't he?" Harry dryly remarked as he watched Newt pull out his wand, cast a _Stupefy_ at the kneazle and then dislodge its teeth from his hand before healing the wounds.

"Ah well," Scamander replied, "I'd be a little stand-offish too if I came in with a face full of electrified porcupine quills and then woke up to find my nards gone."

"Valid point" Harry said, before he quieted down and let Scamander do his job. He looked around the office as Scamander did the Kneazle's checkup.

Parchment . . . lamp . . . more parchment . . . glass box . . . even more parchment. Wait a minute!

He noticed a small glass box peeking out from under a sheaf of parchment. Standing up, he made his way over and removed the sheaf of paper, only to find, to his surprise, a small, brilliantly shiny orange and black coloured coral snake in a glass box.

" _§What is your name?§_ "Harry quietly hissed at the snake. There was no reply. The snake only looked at him for a second before going back to what could Harry only assume was contemplating its existence.

Curious, he turned to Scamander.

"Is this snake yours?" he asked the man.

"Butpleg? He's a medical snake. Belongs to the hospital. He does colonoscopies."

" _What!?_ " Harry's voice reached a new level of pitch.

"You know . . ." Scamander said, oblivious to Harry's shock. "He goes in from the back door, sees what's in there, then we copy out his memories and see what's wrong and what we can do for the patient. He does a lot of animals. Mostly horse types though. Unicorns, Abraxans, Pegasi and the like."

Harry looked at the small coiled up snake, wondering what horrors that little creature must have seen in the rectal tracts of those horses. Deciding that he had to do something about it, Harry said, "Can I have him? Having some company on the trip would be great"

"Sure. Take him. He's not poisonous any more though, since we removed his poison glands when he started here. He's getting a bit too old for the job anyways." the elder man said.

Harry slowly opened the lid and offered his hand to the snake. " _§Come on Butpleg. Let's get you out of here§_ " he quietly said.

The snake considered Harry for a second before it slowly climbed up his hand and coiled itself up around his wrist.

With a whoosh, the fireplace suddenly lit up and turned green. Scamander quickly cleaned his hands with a wave of his wand, left the Kneazle, and went to the fireplace to talk to whoever was calling.

A moment later, he looked up from the fireplace and handed Harry a broken quill and a piece of paper. Harry looked at what was written on it.

 _Nifflertits_

"That's the portkey activation word. When you're ready, just grab onto the quill and say it, and you'll be off."

"So this is it then. Thanks for all the help . . . Mandy"

"You're welcome lad. Have fun out there."

"I will" Harry said as he grabbed the quill, and said, " _Nifflertits_ "

He felt the familiar feeling, as though a hook just behind his navel, and he had been suddenly jerked forward. His feet left the ground, and he disappeared from the office in a howl of wind and swirling color.

* * *

It was almost sundown that day by the time Albus Dumbledore finished up with all the paperwork of his reinstatement and returned to his office in Hogwarts.

The sheer number off absolutely useless, random and totally out of context bills that the Dark sympathising Wizengamot members were pushing in was absolutely mind boggling.

Albus knew why they were doing it of course. It was so that he wouldn't have time to pass legislation to act against the Death Eaters. And so far, their tactic had been moderately successful.

Letting Fawkes fly back to his perch and rest, Albus sat down at his desk to sign off on the Hogwarts bills before going off to sleep.

A small piece of parchment suddenly caught his eye. It must have been delivered while he was at the ministry. It wasn't anything to look at, but it was the handwriting that caught his attention.

That messy chicken scrawl was without a doubt, Harry Potter's writing.

Picking it up, he read what it said,

 _Dear Professor,_

 _Toodles_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry_

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Albus suddenly started noticing things that he hadn't noticed before in his exhausted state.

There were few white feathers strewn across the floor, and the only owl with white feathers that he knew was Harry Potter. Furthermore, the fireplace was smoking and sparking, indicating that someone had tried to floo call him several times.

Swiftly moving towards the fireplace, he quickly checked to see who had flooed him.

It was Arabella Figg.

He quickly lit the fire and floo called the woman.

"Albus! Thank goodness you're here! I kept calling because was worried when I noticed that the Dursleys didn't have Harry with him when they returned from the station. Albus I'm worried about the boy." Arabella said, looking very distressed.

"Its going to be alright. Stand back Arabella. I'm coming through."

A second later, he emerged from the Fireplace in Arabella Figg's house, assured her that he was looking into what had happened to Harry, and quickly headed to Number 4 Privet Drive.

It was the lanky form of Petunia Dursley who opened the door, in her nightdress.

"What are you doing here!?" she hissed, her eyes sweeping across the neighbourhood, making sure no one was watching.

"Hello Mrs. Dursley. We've corresponded of course, but I'm afraid today calls for a personal meeting. Will you not invite me in?" Albus said calmly.

No doubt struggling to slam her fist into his face, Petunia opened the door and let him in.

Sitting down at the Dursley's couch and conjuring some tea, turning Petunia's face redder than a tomato. "Will Mr. Dursley not be joining us?"

That set her off.

"He's asleep! Tired! We spent an hour trying to find the boy at the station! Is it not decent manners to tell us if you're going to keep the bastard for the whole summer!? How are we supposed to . . ."

Dumbledore tuned the woman's rant out and withdrew into his thoughts. He had gotten the information he had come for from that single line.

This news _was_ reassuring in a way because it meant that Harry hadn't been kidnapped by the Death Eaters.

But it also could mean that Harry's distrust in him had reached a point where he wasn't willing to trust him enough to stay in his protection. And that was more troubling than anything else.

Now, Albus Dumbledore was a very fit man for his age. He had a very good bone and muscle density, his heart was well-functioning, and his reflexes were better than ever.

But old age hadn't left him untouched. After he had reached the age of 105, he had started to develop problems in his digestive system. More specifically his large intestine.

So whenever he got very nervous or stressed, his body would involuntarily let out a burst of flatulence. It was a very simple disease, and a very easy one to deal with. Just a potion every day and it was all dealt with.

But today was different. Dragged up by the Wizengamot paperwork, and now Harry going missing, he'd forgotten to take his potion.

Albus Dumbledore, with some dread, realised that when he felt a large fart forming in his lower abdomen.

A single sweat formed in his brow as he tried to think of how not to embarrass himself in front of Petunia Dursley of all people.

An idea formed in his mind to deal with this situation of crisis, and he hastily started implementing it. He shuffled along the sofa a bit, and spread his bumcheeks apart, making sure his fart would pass through unobstructed by his buttocks.

The fart came a second later, and floofed into the fabric of his underwear without a single sound, leaving Dumbledore feeling quietly victorious. He had truly triumphed over the fart.

Mentally patting himself on the back, he turned his attention back to Petunia, who had finally reached the conclusion of her ranting and raving about how they had spent all of fifteen minutes searching through the platform.

"Ah yes, Mrs. Dursley. I'd really like to apologise for not letting you know about Harry not coming here this summer. Truly my mistake. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to the school. Good night to you" he said, and quickly left the house.

It was better to not let the Dursleys know about Harry being missing. If any death eater somehow found them after the blood wards failed, the Dursleys would tell them that Harry was with the Order, and it would throw Voldemort off Harry's scent for at least some time.

Meanwhile, _he_ had to somehow find Harry, stay ahead of the Death Eaters, convince Horace to come back _and_ get the anti Death Eater bills passed, all by himself!

He let out a sigh of frustration. This was turning out to be a _very_ bad day.

Harry Potter was gone. And he had absolutely no idea where.

* * *

 **Is Dobby Buckbeaks a bad name? Yep. Does iknow some of you will not like Harry using 'Dobby Buckbeaks' as his name, but its for a relevant plot point. I promise.**

 **I decided to take the 'wizards use animals for their work' to a bit of an extreme. Owls for mail, snakes for colonoscopies. Next Chapter, Mission #1: Milan, Italy.**

 **REVIEW!**


	3. Seeing Things

**Chapter 3: Seeing Things**

As soon as the tug of the portkey disappeared from behind Harry's navel, his hand immediately snapped to his pocket where he had his wand before he looked around to determine where he had landed.

"Welcome to Milan," came a voice from behind him, "Can I have your documentation and baggage please?"

Harry lowered his hand as he turned around to look at the burly silver robed man who had spoken.

"Hello," he instinctively blurted out, surveying his surroundings. He was in a small wooden room with a fireplace and no windows. The single door out of the place had a padlock on it. The man who had spoken was standing behind a desk, waiting for his response. A large tapestry bearing the coat of arms of the _Polizia di Stato di Magia_ hung on the wall behind him.

The man frowned, "Do hurry up young man."

Harry nodded, wondering how he was going to get out of this situation, when he looked down at his hand. The broken quill that Scamander had given him was no longer there.

Instead, he was holding a leather booklet.

The man had waited enough. He leant over, picked the booklet out of Harry's hands and started looking over it, stamping several pages and asking questions as he did so.

"First trip to Italy Mr. Buckbeaks?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any baggage?"

"I do actually," Harry said, unshrinking his trunk and handing it to the customs officer, who did not open it, instead pulling out something looking like a golden ticket dispenser and running it over the trunk.

The dispenser gave a shrill ' _choo choo_ ' and let out a puff of putrid green smoke, which apparently satisfied the officer.

"What is your purpose for this trip?"

"I'm here for an internship job. I'll be doing some sightseeing too if time allows."

"And where will you be staying?" he finally asked, shrinking Harry's trunk and handing it back with the booklet.

"I don't really know right now. Probably a hotel. I want to see the sights here before I leave," Harry honestly answered.

"Thank you for your cooperation," the man said as he waved a wand to unlock the padlock on the door. "Have a good stay."

Harry thanked the man, exchanged some galleons for some Italian Gulden before quickly heading out of the room and into the street outside.

The street was lined on both sides by buildings, shops and restaurants with outdoor tables. Above the buildings, the sky was turning a bright red and the sun was starting to set. Harry frowned. Scamander had said that he would make arrangements for his stay, but he hadn't given him any clue about how.

Just that second, the Communication Mirror in Harry's pocket started heating up painfully. Wincing, Harry dug into his pocket, pulling out the mirror to look at it. As soon as his fingers touched it, the mirror's temperature fell back to normal.

Seeing Scamander's face in it, Harry quickly ducked into a nearby alleyway to get away from the muggles on the street and asked, "You forgot to tell me anything about my lodgings Mr. Scamander."

"I know," the elderly man sheepishly said, "That is why I called. Night is falling, so if you can get to a couple of kilometers south-west from the Customs office you are in then you'll find the holiday villa of a British friend of mine. He is there in Italy for vacation right now, and if you mention my name he'll let you stay in his house tonight. Just be careful going in. He is obsessed with booby-trapping his property."

Harry nodded, "Alright then. Do you have a specific address?"

Scamander nodded, "Give me a second."

Scamander quickly called out the address to Harry, who noted it down and put the Mirror back into his pocket before pulling out one of the Allspeak potions he had brought and chugging it down.

He had no wish to be stuck in a foreign country with no idea about the language.

Suddenly, he felt a wall of dizziness slam into him, making him reach for the nearby wall for support. When he finally regained his balance and looked up, his mouth fell open. All the shop signs, which had previously been in Italian, now appeared English to him. The hubbub of previously incomprehensible chitter chatter that was coming from the passing people now made sense to his ears.

Walking out into the street, Harry started heading vaguely northwards, wondrously noting how the passing people seemed to be speaking in Italian and their mouths moved as if they were, yet it all sounded English to him.

The street he was in soon ended as it met a road, where Harry decided to call for a cabbie. A minute later, a bright yellow taxicab pulled over, and a minute of haggling over the fare later, he was off heading towards the Navigli District.

Soon, the architecture outside changed from a vaguely uniform coloured and sized buildings and gave way to houses of bright red and yellow with sloping tiled roofs. The streets became less crowded, and grocery stores and souvenir shops replaced the restaurants and cafes. The attire of the people roaming the streets changed too, turning less formal.

Harry watched all that and more with fascinated eyes, taking in all the differences and similarities that this place had with UK.

Fifteen minutes later, he got out of the cab in front of a derelict looking house. The roof looked half caved in, the walls were filled with overgrowth, and the iron gate rusted. A half broken wooden sign was nailed into the wall near the gate with the words ' _Shiba Villa_ ' written on it.

"Are you sure this is the place you were looking for?" the cabbie asked.

"This is the address that I was given," Harry replied hesitantly.

The cabbie shrugged. "Suit yourself then," he said, before driving away.

Harry stood there for a minute, wondering what to do, before he decided to screw it and stepped forward to push the iron gate open.

As soon as his hands touched the cold iron, the house in front of him transformed.

Gone was the derelict looking house, instead having been replaced with a quaint two storied villa with a garden in front of it. The most peculiar thing about the entire house was the life-sized statue of a dog that stood right in between the path leading up to the front door.

'The rundown house was an illusion to keep muggles away,' Harry realised before pushing open the gate and stepping inside gingerly. No alarms went off, no secret protective magic struck him with lightning, and the statue of the dog didn't come to life and eat him up.

Scamander's warning about traps rung in his ear, but as he made his past the statue with ' _Shiba Inu, Mightiest of Dogs,_ ' written on the base of it, nothing happened. It was as if whatever traps guarded the house were dropped down.

Almost as if the owner of the house was expecting someone.

Harry stepped onto the front porch and reached for the knocker on the door, when suddenly, the door sprang open all by itself, revealing the spacious foyer with a balcony looking over the entire room. The waning evening light filtered gently through the long arching windows, and the entire room was lit up with candles floating throughout the headspace.

Jaw hanging open with awe, Harry walked in.

BANG!

The door behind him slammed shut, snapping Harry out of his tizzy. Pulling out his wand, he swung around in panic, pushing the door handle in vain.

" _Alohamora! Reducto! Bombarda!_ "

None of the spells did anything. Gritting his teeth, he swivelled back around to face the insides of this house . . . trap . . . he had entered. His eyes swept around the room once, then twice, first checking to see if anyone was there and then plotting out whatever routes of escape he had.

The fireplace looked functional with its burning fire, but there was no floo powder. The other doors leading out of the room were closed as well. The only viable method seemed to be the windows, whose glass he could smash and get out.

But before he could even move from where he was standing, soft jazzy music started playing.

" _Darling when you maaaake me smile . . ._ " the voice of the woman sang, " _I will give you what you neeeeeeed . . . tonight . . ._ "

One of the doors leading further into the house from the foyer opened with a soft creak, and a familiar old man stepped out, holding a rose in one hand and a case of chocolate in the other. A sultry smile sat on the face of the old man, looking more out of place than Hippogriff at a Dursley tea party.

And he was _butt naked_. There was that too.

It took Harry a few torturous seconds to place why the man looked familiar to him.

It was Elphias Doge. Member of the Order of the Phoenix, part of the group that had come to escort him to Grimmauld Place last year, and one of the _last fucking people_ Harry was hoping to encounter, both in general and in nude.

Harry froze up and waited with bated breath for him to realise who he was, but Doge advanced slowly with an awkward saunter, apparently not recognising him at all.

"My my . . ." he said huskily, "Aren't you quite the pretty young lady . . . I hope you can take it in the arse. They don't call me Elphias Doggy for nothing."

As soon as Harry heard that horrendously sexual pun, he realised a few things about himself.

He realised that he did _not_ like naked old men.

He realised that he was an utter and complete idiot for not finding a hotel or pitching a tent somewhere else.

And he realised that that could take having his summer trips and plans being ruined, but he wasn't about to stay quiet as an old man tried to bugger him.

"Mr. Doge," he said, mustering as much confidence as he could when faced with a nude 100 year old man with his wrinkly prune of a penis hanging out, "I'd really appreciate it if you'd put on some clothes."

Doge stopped short, before frowning in his general direction, "Forgive my poor eyesight dear; I don't have my glasses on me; but do you have some throat deformities? You don't sound very much like a girl now do you?"

He hadn't recognised his voice! The Confundus ring was working! Spirits lightened a slight bit despite the sight in front of him, Harry replied, "I'm not a girl. I think there has been a . . ." He gulped down the bile threatening to rise up his throat, "A misunderstanding here. I am an intern for NS Veterinarium. Mr. Scamander sent me. He said you'd let me stay for the night."

Doge squinted at him for a moment before waving his hand. A long furry coat flew out of the door he had entered from and into his hand. He quickly threw it on, before pulling out a pair of glasses from the pocket and putting them on.

"Oh dear," he muttered, staring at Harry with wide eyes.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

The slamming on the door from which Harry had entered the house startled both the people in the room.

"Oi!" the shrill voice of a girl came through, "Open up! I'm here from Madam Moo's Escort house! My agent told me you'd pay extra if I'd let you fuck me in the ass!"

* * *

After putting on some more clothes and sending off the escort with promises to send over a compensation payment, Elphias Doge had proceeded to repeatedly and sincerely apologize to Harry. He hadn't been expecting a guest and had been planning to have a productive night of . . . escorting . . . with the escort he had requested for. But then Harry had arrived, and the entire thing had gone tits up.

The man's poor eyesight had done no favours to the entire situation.

"I cannot apologize enough young man. I can't eve-"

"It's alright Mr. Doge," Harry said, finally feeling a bit of pity for the old man, "It's not your fault. Let's just both forget that . . . it . . . ever happened."

Doge nodded, putting down his teacup onto the table in between the armchairs they were sitting on, "Quite right, quite right. That's very big of you to say that. Let bygones be bygones as the wise would put it. And don't worry about where you will stay while you are in Milan. Stay here for as long as you need to."

"Thank you," Harry replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the man's receded hairline. It would be while before he could look Elphias Doge in the eyes and not get mind-numbing vomit-inducing flashbacks to . . . _that sight_.

"You're welcome. Though you never really told me your name did you?"

Harry was about to reply with 'Dobby Buckbeaks' before he suddenly realised that it wasn't a name he could use. Both Dobby and Buckbeak were names familiar to too many people in the Order, and if Elphias Doge even _mentioned_ the name in a meeting or something then he'd be entirely outed.

"Er . . . Rando," Harry blurted out.

"Rando?"

"Yeah. Its a mononym. Like Cher."

"Very well then Rando. Let me go and prepare the guest room fo- Ow!"

Doge flinched, before grimacing and dipping his hand into a pocket and pulling out a silver medallion the size of Harry's fist, which he peered at for a minute.

Harry tried, unsuccessfully, to peek at what was written on it, guessing that it was similar to the Galleons that he and Dumbledore's Army had used throughout the last year. From the large and obvious phoenix engraved on the back of it, it was fairly obvious which group it belonged to.

"Excuse me," Doge said after he finished peering at the medallion and stuffed it back into his pocket, before hurrying over to the fireplace on the other side of the room where he started a floo call, knelt down, and started talking.

Harry couldn't hear anything from the other side, but the snippets of Doge's replies that did float through to his ears were enough to let Harry know what was going on.

" _What'd you mean Harry is missing_! . . . The _station_! He didn't even get to his relative's house? . . . Order meeting? I'm in _Italy_ right now Albus . . . Fine then."

Doge rose from his knees and turned to Harry, who had fixed an expression of polite curiosity on his face. "I'm afraid something urgent has come up young lad. I have to leave for now and I probably won't be back until late night. Do you reckon you will be able to get settled in on your own?"

"It's fine Mr. Doge," Harry assured. "I can manage just fine."

"Good lad," Doge said with a smile, before waving his wand at him, "There you go. I added you to the Protection charms and wards. Guest Room is upstairs third to the right. I'll be off then."

And with that, he stepped into the fire and enunciated the floo address. Harry could only faintly hear the 'Number Twelve Grimmauld Place' before the old man was gone in a flash of green fire.

A wide grin split Harry's face as soon as Doge disappeared.

He was going to be sleeping at the home of one of Dumbledore's closest friends while he rallied the Order to find him.

Sirius would have appreciated the irony in this more than anybody else.

Soon he made his way upstairs and into the third room on the right, not daring to try and enter any of the other rooms lest Scamander's warning about there being an abundance of traps here prove true.

Setting Butpleg, who had managed to sleep through the _entire_ thing, down on a pillow, Harry quickly changed his clothes and pulled the _Magical Atlas for the Magical Wanderer_ out of his rucksack and flipped it open to Italy.

 _Italy is a country with 20 regions, each with its own dialects, traditions, architecture and glorious food. Then there are the country's incomparable artistic treasures, which amount to more than the rest of the world put together. A major attraction in Italy is known to be the food, and that holds especially true for Mago District, which is Milan's Wizarding District as well as Italy's Magical Capital. Master Chefs from all over the world come here to show off their skills in the famous Cook-Offs which happen there every single evening. Other than the food, Milan also boasts of a collection of magical art that is unrivalled around the world. One can go there to have a chat with Da Vinci or Dante, should the portraits be feeling up for it. For lovers of magical creatures, the area around Lake Como is a must visit, since it is known to be one of the most populated magical creature reserves in the world._

 _NOTE: The Italian Government has a strict policy against magic affecting the mind. Visitors are warned not to use the British Unforgivable Curse'Imperio' as well as curses affecting the mind, including the British 'Obliviate' and the Italian 'Erudivioto'._

"Mago District," Harry muttered to himself as he closed the book. Now he knew where he was going to have his breakfast before heading to Lake Como or a nearby village tomorrow.

With good food and anticipation for new adventures on his mind, Harry drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Elphias Doge walked out of the fireplace in Grimmauld place before hastily making his way down the hallway to the kitchen, where the members of the Order of the Phoenix had already gathered for their meeting.

"You're late Elphias," Dumbledore said.

"I had to cater to a guest. My apologies for keeping everyone waiting," Elphias said as he quickly found a seat and sat down.

With a nod towards him, Dumbledore stood up and began to speak, "As I'm sure all of you already know, as of this evening I have confirmed that Harry Potter is missing, and that is why this meeting has been called."

The people in the room shared worried looks, and the pink haired Nymphadora Tonks asked, "Was it the Death Eaters?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "I have reasons to believe that he left of his own will. Whether he did so out of frustration or due to some other reasons I do not know, but what is important to remember is that we need to find him. With Voldemort's complete return, now is the most dangerous time for Harry to be out there alone without protection."

"Kingsley, Nymphadora, Alastor," he said, turning to where the group of Law Enforcement personnel were sitting, "I want you to reach out to your contacts. Be subtle about it. This is very important information, and it must not get out. Harry's life is in danger, and it is best to maintain the illusion that he is safe and within our reach so that Voldemort does not actively start hunting him."

They nodded in agreement, and Dumbledore turned to the rest of the room, "Those of you with Muggle family, research a way of finding people in the Muggle world. Those of you with jobs in the Ministry, keep an ear out, but stick to the previous orders. We cannot have everyone distracted from our main goal, which is to counter Voldemort's influence in the Ministry. After some more investigation, I will designate a team dedicated to finding Harry-."

A quiet but sharp voice interrupted Dumbledore, "You should be doing the exact opposite."

Tens of heads turned as one to look at the dark robed man with wide eyes, for it was Severus Snape who had spoken. It took a second for everyone to register what he was saying.

Arthur Weasley was the first one to speak out, "What do you mean Severus?"

Snape levelled a flat stare at him, "Exactly what you think I mean. The Headmaster shouldn't be focusing resources on hiding this from Voldemort or trying to locate Potter. He should be doing the opposite."

There was a beat of silence, and then the entire room exploded with loud noises of protests.

"Silence!" Dumbledore called over the din, and the sounds came to a sudden halt. He turned to look at Snape, "Explain yourself Severus. Why do you think so?"

"The Dark Lord's obsession on Potter is the reason why he has not turned this into an all out war as soon as he was revived. Throughout the last year, he has kept his focus on Potter, which has managed to indirectly save hundreds of lives. If we manage to divert his attention towards Potter being missing, he will devote everything he has to it. Countless other lives might be saved. We could get more time to rally our forces."

"The Death Eater isn't wrong," Much to everyone's surprise, it was Moody who spoke, "If Voldemort sends his followers after Harry, we could use false leads to lure them into traps, or even send them on wild goose chases. We could use it to destroy the entire organisation bit by bit. Potter might just have given us a way to end the war before it even begins."

"No!" Molly Weasley said firmly, "Absolutely not! Turning him into a target to further our cause isn't acceptable."

"Learn to think woman!" Snape snarked, "One life as a cost for hundreds is _more_ than worth it. Besides, Potter is already a target."

"He isn't being _hunted_!"

"He looks pretty hunted to me."

"Why you-"

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore said strictly, "It's clear that spirits are running high today. Severus's plan has merits, but we need to consider it's ramifications with clear heads before we make a decision about it. We are going to adjourn today and meet again tomorrow morning to come to a final decision."

* * *

 **Do you know where the 'Rando' name is a reference to?**

 **Bit of a less eventful chapter, but in the next chapter Harry buys a camera, has a Cook-Off with a famous chef, and sets off to Lake Como.**

 **REVIEW!**


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